Far Reach
by Lavande
Summary: Gippal x Baralai: Gippal has recurring dreams about his friend's death, but nobody believes him. Will he figure it out in time, or will he lose everything that matters?
1. Tame This Mind

**Far Reach**

by

Lavande

**1. Tame This Mind**

_So when will this end, it goes on and on,_

_over and over and over again._

_- Sick Cycle Carousel, by Lifehouse -_

"We're all one ship," Gippal muttered under his breath as he made his way to his rooms at the New Yevon Headquarters in Bevelle. Well, now they were the headquarters of the Spira Union, as Youth League and the former Order of New Yevon so pompously had decided to call themselves. Oh, and the Machine Faction, kind of. Not that they had asked him or something.

"Let's start a new journey," he went on, his tone mocking, bitter. Established personnel cleared his way as he stomped down the long marble corridors, their startled gazes following him. None of them had ever seen 'that crazy young Al Bhed' with anything but a lazy smile on his face, so the well and truly pissed off man rushing past them was something of a surprise. Damned if he cared.

He had reached his quarters, and really not too soon, either. Shaking with anger, he stared at his hands. "A new course, for all of Spira, together," he spat, and drew in a deep breath. "Together… _well, fuck!_"

With a violent kick, the door to his rooms flew open, banging against the wall. He stormed inside, slamming it shut, at the same time knocking a slender vase from its position on a delicate side table. It shattered on the cool white marble floor into hundreds of satisfyingly tiny pieces, glittering bluish in the light of the sun that streamed in through the large panorama windows. The young man booted the side table for good measure, watching in grim approval as it tumbled across the room. Feeling a little better, Gippal took another deep breath, and let out a sigh. Anger faded, leaving room for disappointment as he dropped heavily onto the beautiful, if a bit uncomfortable, sofa that was the centrepiece of his living room.

They hadn't even asked him. Youth League and New Yevon had already decided on a political course for Spira, distributing the positions of power amongst their ranks.

And they hadn't even asked him. Not once. Not carefree, charming Gippal with his one eye and his chaotic ways. _Leader of the Al Bhed Machine Faction, by the way, and leader of the Al Bhed, once Cid decides to step down, thank you _soo_ very much._

Everyone knew he was the designated heir of Cid's 'throne', that he would take over once the old man decided to retire. Everyone who knew anything about the Al Bhed, that is. But, funnily, nobody seemed to care about the Al Bhed. Oh, they could fly along on that great ship that was Spira's future. Just not in _any_ position that counted, and he really had thought his friends knew better than that.

It stung.

Engineer. That was the place he had chosen for himself all those years ago, when the days were full of death and desperation, but somehow more innocent. And it seemed that 'engineer' was all he was expected to be. All his whole people was expected to be.

Just keep 'em up and running, boys, and we'll give you a warm handshake for your efforts. _Well, let's see how you manage to run your Spira Union when there's no one around fixing your machina._

But that wasn't fair. They were trying to rebuild a world, and here he was, pouting like a little kid. So what if they couldn't see past their friend's antics to see the capable leader who had built the Machine Faction from scratch, and against Cid's will – at least in the early days, before he had proven himself. So what if he had to fight just that little bit harder, as always, to get his people the credit they deserved?

So what if a certain ex-praetor seemed too taken in by the 'pilot' of their little ship to notice the engineer standing in the wings?

Because that was the real problem, wasn't it? Might as well be a man and admit it.

Gippal propped his elbows up on his knees and buried his face in his hands. Nooj he could handle, the man had never taken him seriously anyway. But Baralai… Baralai had been his best friend, back in the days of the Crimson Squad, and he'd honestly thought that would never change. More than that - now that he was being honest with himself, he might as well be completely so. There had been a time when he'd hoped they could be more than that. More than friends. More than… more than this. It had certainly seemed so after Vegnagun had been defeated and Shuyin driven from the body that wasn't his. Baralai had looked around in confusion, spotted him, and smiled, and Gippal's heart had skipped a beat or two. And in the days following the infamous 'We are a ship' speech back in Luca, there had been an easy companionship between the two of them that had him almost sure that there was _something_ going on, even if he had shied from giving a name to the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him whenever his gentle, dark-skinned friend was near.

But now Paine was back, good old Doctor P, and suddenly Baralai had only eyes for her, completely ignoring a first bewildered, then hurt, Gippal. Evenings that had been filled with friendly banter, with catching up on those last two years, instead were reserved for hanging out with the serious young woman, with 'showing her the home town' and other stuff that apparently hadn't been worthwhile when it was him the time would have been spent with.

That stung, too.

Sure, the withdrawn Paine made a much better partner for the equally closed-off ex-praetor than a hyperactive Al Bhed, but hey, opposites attract, right?

Right?

Damn…

Well, another day, another failure. Story of his life.

Gippal sighed as he let himself fall unceremoniously onto his bed, bouncing on the thick mattress. Well, not a complete failure. While Baralai hadn't so much as looked at him outside of the conference room, at least he had managed to convince Nooj that a representation of the Al Bhed in their new government was not only desirable, but necessary. Together they had established a ministry of science and research, to be built up and headed by Nhadala, his right hand in Bikanel. Then there had been the issue of paying the Al Bhed for machina maintenance. Much as they wanted to help the other people of Spira rebuild their homes, they really weren't a bunch of do-gooders. So from now on, service would be requested, rendered, and paid for.

Amazingly enough, that last part had actually been Nooj's idea. In his little temper tantrum yesterday, he had obviously done the man injustice, and he was sorry for that. Come to think of it, while it _was_ true that Nooj didn't really view him as an equal, neither had 'The Undying' ever underestimated him. He had forgotten that. And they had been friends back then, he knew. Not very good friends, never the best, but friends nevertheless. He had forgotten that, too. Well, kinda funny, if you thought about it. Supported by a guy he had thought didn't even really like him while being abandoned by one he had taken to be his pal, his buddy, his chum. He knew he was wallowing in self-pity now, and it took some effort to snap out of it. _Think of the good part. You got the Al Bhed a piece of the future today._

Staring at the ceiling, Gippal didn't find the slightest trace of satisfaction inside himself. Or accomplishment. Or anger at the fact that Baralai had not even joined the discussion, instead just raising his hand in agreement when Paine had done so. He was getting so tired of this, of trying to get attention, of trying to be worth the loyalty and companionship of someone who didn't care, probably never had. Tired of being the one on the outside. Tired of being so damn lovesick.

Just… tired.

Maybe it was time to go home.


	2. Kill Me

**2. Kill Me**

_I loved you, and I should have said it,_

_But tell me, just what has it ever meant?_

_- Kill, by Jimmy Eat World -_

Something wasn't right. As he stumbled through deserted streets barely lit by the pale moonlight, he knew something was just about to go terribly, horribly wrong. Or already had.

The silence was eerie, broken only by his panting breaths and the sound of his boots as they scraped over the cobblestone. Luca, he was in the outskirts of Luca, but why? And why did that dreadful feeling of foreboding keep rising like bile in his throat, even while his stomach felt like a ball of lead tangled in his guts?

And then he rounded a corner, one of many, and just knew. Knew why he had felt like his world was about to crumble; knew why his heart had refused a steady beating; _knew_ why he would never, ever find a single moment of peace again for the rest of his life.

With a choked sob, he tumbled forward, dropping on his knees beside the prone figure discarded on the street like a lump of trash. Trembling hands reached for a shoulder, and gently turned the limp body around. The shaking started in earnest as he stared into the slack face of his best friend.

"Please," he whispered, voice cracking, "please…", but even if he had known to whom he was pleading, it didn't really take a genius to realize it would have been in vain anyway, you just had to look at the dark splattered chest; nobody could lose that much blood and survive, it was too late for phoenix feathers, yet he kept begging even as he gathered the unmoving body in his arms and buried his face in his friend's cold neck and broke down and cried, cried…

_"Baralai!"_

Gippal awoke with a start, tangled in the sheets, heart racing. He stared around wildly, disoriented, and the door to his bedroom flew open.

"Gippal?"

He choked, and Nhadala only took one short look at his pale face before grabbing the wastepaper basket and shoving it under his nose just as he began to heave. Painful cramps shuddered through his body as he emptied his stomach, clutching the sheets in a white-knuckled grip. Finally, the tremors eased, and he could breathe, albeit shakily. She ran a gentle hand over his sweaty forehead.

"Another nightmare?"

"Yeah, a real doozy," he managed, hating his voice for trembling.

"Like the others."

"Yeah." He let himself fall back with a weary sigh, hitting the mattress with a thump. "Like the others."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

It was hard to resist Nhadala's sympathetic smile, and he didn't really want to. After his parents' death she had become something of an older sister to him, first looking out for a lost young boy with too much energy to spare, then following him as he built up the Machine Faction. Nobody could have become his right hand but her. Two days ago she had returned from Bikanel to get the foundation of her new ministry organized, and he had been glad about it. She still looked out for him, and he wasn't ashamed to admit that right now, he needed her to.

So he told her. Told her about cobblestones and panic. About blood and despair. And about that strange thing he only ever noticed on the verge of waking up, that feeling of dark satisfaction in the back of his mind, the flash of hatred, of doom. The pull that spoke of cold madness, a siren call, faintly but there, luring him to Bikanel. To Home.

And that was crazy, wasn't it? Home was gone.

"It's just a dream, tynmehk."

"But that's just it. They don't feel like dreams. More like that time when Shuyin was controlling us and I could feel his emotions. It's as if there's a shadow of him still inside of me."

"He rests now. He's gone." Nhadala's voice was as soothing as her touch, lulling him back to slumber.

"I know. I guess it's just a memory." Gippal's voice didn't sound convincing to his own ears, but sleep was really pulling at him now, and Nhadala didn't comment on it.

"Sleep. You need it. There's much to do tomorrow."

"Yeah. I know."

The young Al Bhed yawned, and closed his eyes, taking comfort in the knowledge that his 'sister' would stay the rest of the night.

The next morning didn't find Gippal exactly refreshed, but the light of day helped chase the remnants of his nightmare away. That, and his people. He went around, bickering good naturedly, pointing out errors to the machina researchers, answering questions of the engineers, and sometimes just joking, relaxing in the knowledge that here he could be himself without anybody raising their eyebrows. While he still felt a little put off by that whole Bevelle thing, he could easily admit that he wasn't the right Al Bhed to represent his people in the Spira Union. He just wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut, and one of their members running around offending the public wasn't exactly what the new government needed.

So he shrugged it off, and went back to work. The serious Nhadala wouldn't have any problems of that kind in the big city. And if there were any trouble, well, he'd be there.

They were in the cramped, disorganized room he euphemistically called his "office", sticking their heads together over the question of whom to include in the ministry and whom to keep in Djose, when the door flew open and a very familiar figure stormed into the room.

"You didn't even say goodbye!"

"Why, hello to you, too, Baralai," Gippal drawled, leaning back. Nhadala looked as if she wasn't sure if she should stay or go, but before she could say anything, Baralai had reached their table and slammed his hands down on the clattered surface, leaning into Gippal's personal space.

"Why did you leave?" he demanded angrily.

"I wasn't needed. Why waste my time on talking, when I can be here and fix things?" came the answer.

"Not- not needed?" His friend stared at him incredulously. He straightened, threw his hands in the air, and started pacing. "Are you stupid or something?"

Gippal didn't think he'd ever seen Baralai so agitated. He didn't know what to make of it. But he was starting to grow angry himself. Trying to rein in his temper, he said, "Look, the Al Bhed will join your little party soon enough, once we get the organisation figured out. But it won't be me."

"Why not? How can it be anybody _but_ you?"

"I'm not the right person for that job."

"You _saved Spira!_" Baralai yelled. Something in Gippal snapped.

"That doesn't make me a fucking politician!" he yelled right back. "I don't have what it takes for that shit! At least with the Al Bhed, I don't have to sit around all day and _talk_ about things. I just see to it that they get _done_!"

"And so you thought it would be a good idea to just leave? Without telling anyone?"

"I told Nooj!"

"You didn't tell me!"

"It took you three days to notice!"

"Yeah, well, I was busy! Some of us have work to do!"

"Are you saying I don't?"

They stared at each other across the room, breathing heavily from shouting. Baralai was the first to look away.

"No, that's not what I'm saying." He sighed. "I know what you're doing here is important. It's just- I wanted to talk to you, and you were gone."

Gippal suppressed a smile. So Baralai had come to find him. It made something inside him thaw, just a little.

"Look, why don't you stay a while? We could catch up on what's been going on in Bevelle the last few days."

Baralai shook his head. "I can't. Paine and I are on our way to Luca. We just stopped by to see how you were doing."

And just like that, the warmth was gone. _Baralai and Paine. Go figure._

"Ah. Well, have a nice journey, then. Excuse me. I'm still tired, and we do have work here."

"Tired? What, don't they let you sleep in Djose?" Baralai smiled.

When Gippal didn't answer, Nhadala spoke up.

"He keeps having nightmares."

"She knows how you sleep?" The ex-praetor shot her an unreadable look.

"Well, since she is the one seeing me through the nights, yes, she would know. What is this, an investigation?" Gippal asked, irritated.

His friend frowned at that. "Sorry," he said stiffly. "We'll be on our way, then. Take care."

Baralai turned to leave, and something that had been nagging at Gippal finally stopped knocking at the back of his mind to scream for attention. He paled.

"No, wait. You're going to Luca?"

"Yes. We're thinking of setting up the Spira Union there. Neutral territory," Baralai answered, and turned to face him. "Why?"

"You shouldn't. Go there, I mean. You really, really shouldn't."

"Why?" his friend asked again, raising an eyebrow.

"Because you'll die there," Gippal blurted out, and inwardly cursed himself.

"Excuse me?"

"It's the dream! Something's there, something that will kill you. Or rather, I think something's in Bikanel, with Home," the Al Bhed knew he was babbling, but he carried on. "I don't know what it is, maybe Shuyin isn't gone like we thought, maybe he'll possess Paine and kill you. Just- just don't go to Luca!"

Baralai just stared at him, while Nhadala shook her head. "Is this about Paine?" he asked finally. "I know I kind of neglected you for her, but-"

"This isn't about Paine!" Gippal ran both hands through his hair, and tried to get his point across. "Look, I know it sounds crazy, but you can't go to Luca. Setting up the Spira Union there is a really bad idea."

His friends eyes were cold, as was his voice.

"You left, Gippal. So you'll excuse us if we don't ask for your agreement before making any decisions. No need for pouting."

"What? I'm not-"

"Please!" Baralai interrupted, seething with anger, "'Don't go to Luca because I dreamed you'll die'? I know you can be a little crazy sometimes, but this is bullshit. And if you think I'll let Paine go alone and stay here because you feel left out, you've got another one coming. You made a decision, Gippal, so stick with it. Grow up."

With that, his friend turned, and left. Gippal could just stare, open-mouthed, at the now closed door. Then he looked at Nhadala, still lost for words. She returned his gaze with sympathetic eyes.

"Huh," he finally managed. "That went well."

tynmehk – darling


	3. You Wanted In

**3. You Wanted In**

_You're where I thought I'd never go._

_I can't believe I did._

_- Look Out Below, by Closure -_

That night, the dreams stayed away, as did sleep. Gippal tossed and turned, finally lying on his back, staring at the dark ceiling. Baralai's words were ringing in his ears.

_Grow up._

Where had that come from? Did he really come across as immature? He didn't think so, but maybe others didn't quite share his view on things. Yes, he was known to make cheap jokes at completely inappropriate moments, but that was just his way to cope with the tension. If you couldn't laugh about it, you might as well be dead, because then fear would get the better of you. And Baralai _knew_ that, knew _him_.

Or so he had thought.

And now Baralai had gone to Luca, and Gippal couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen his friend for the last time. And they had parted in anger.

_This is bullshit._

Yeah, well, if anybody had told him the ghost of a ten thousand year old blitzball player would possess his friend and try to destroy Spira because his girlfriend had died, that's probably what he would have said. It had happened nevertheless.

And this felt very familiar. Too familiar. Shuyin had never taken control of him, not really, but he had still sensed the hatred, anger, and loneliness of the man in that cave, back in the days of Crimson Squad. This wasn't quite the same, but close. Very close. And if he concentrated, he could feel it, in the back of his mind, right now. Calling.

_It's just a dream, tynmehk._

Problem was, he wasn't so sure about that.

"Gippal, this is crazy."

Nhadala stood in the door and watched him gear up. It wasn't too much he would take along. His weapon, of course. Rope, a light source, some tools. Maybe a little to eat? Yeah, after all, he didn't know how long he would be gone. Might as well take potions, too.

"Gippal."

He sighed.

"Look, I know it sounds stupid, but I have to do this."

"Because of the dreams." It wasn't really a question.

"Yeah, well, what if they're not? I can't risk this, Nhadala. I won't."

"At least take somebody with you. Don't go alone."

He flashed her his easy grin.

"Aw, come on. It's me you're talking to. What could happen?"

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," was her dry answer. Gippal laughed, and drew her into an affectionate hug.

"Don't worry," he murmured into her long blond hair, "I probably won't find anything there, and the only consequence this whole stunt will have is me sleeping at night again."

She pulled back, and smiled one of her rare smiles. It didn't reach her eyes.

"Be careful," she said.

He grinned, and patted her on the back.

"You know me," he winked, and left.

"Yes," she shouted after him. "So do me a favour and be careful."

Gippal laughed.

Reaching Bikanel desert was easy enough. His Al Bhed had a camp there, after all. He used the opportunity to take a tour around the excavation site. The experiment had failed spectacularly, but that wasn't a reason to stop digging. There were other things left to be found.

After a bit of small talk about the new situation in Spira, he left for Home. Or rather, for the hole that was left of it. As he stared down into the bottomless depths his mind wandered back to that fateful day when so many lives had been lost. He remembered the screams, the moans of dying men and women, glassy eyes, explosions, thick acrid smoke that burned in his nose and made his eyes water. He remembered the high-pitched screeches of the attacking monsters, the frantic yelling as the Al Bhed had tried to defend what was theirs. Children crying for their parents. The ground shaking with various impacts. Hands reaching for help that never came. Walls crumbling. Friends falling. And blood, so much blood, its coppery smell almost tangible in the air.

Gippal swallowed against the lump in his throat. Few of them had survived that day. Escaping on Cid's airship, most of them openly crying as its weapons destroyed what was still standing of the place they had called Home. Nothing was left, he knew that. Yet something was drawing him to this place, calling him in the night.

Or it was just a dream, and he was being childish. A man could hope.

Carefully, he made his way down. It wasn't as hard as he had thought it would be. There were more than enough holds for his hands and feet, sometimes even something like a path he could follow. All very different from the sheer drop he had expected. Well, all the better.

He reached the ground after what seemed like an eternity. It was pitch dark, so he took out his small light source and hefted it to the front of his shirt where it wouldn't be in the way. Damp walls glistened in the weak bluish glow. Here and there he could make out twisted pieces of steel, some of them still blackened by soot, others half molten.

And there were bones.

Gippal swallowed again, tears burning in his eyes. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to see this. But he could feel the call again, a deep hatred, pulling at him. Madness that wanted company, wanted _him_, to… see something, bear witness. He knew now that his nightmares had been anything but simple dreams. And if there was the slightest chance to prevent Baralai's death, he'd take it.

Even if that meant finding his way between stone and other things he didn't want to think about, let alone look at. Still, he watched his footing, careful not to… crunch anything.

He just hoped he'd find his way back. Getting lost down here might well mean losing one's mind.

Deeper and deeper into the ruined remains of Home he went, torn between dreading what he might find, and simply wishing this terrible journey to be over.

And then he saw it.

Looming high above him, blue twin lights piercing the darkness over what looked like cheekbones. Strange symbol on a forehead that might or might not be bone. The giant skull face of a machina that should have never been built.

Vegnagun.


	4. Staring Down The Barrel

**4. Staring Down The Barrel**

_Whatever happened to the young man's heart?_

_Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart._

_- 45, by Shinedown -_

There had been a few times Gippal had felt fear.

The destruction of Home had been one of them, naturally. Years before, it had been the day of his parents' death. A rampant machina had gone ballistic and attacked any and every thing in its wake. He had lost his right eye that day. His parents had lost their lives.

After that, no one had wanted to take him in. A fifteen year old boy, shocked and hurt, wasn't exactly what you wanted to be part of your family. Oh, they cared, sure enough. There was always a place to sleep, a hot meal wherever he went. But never love. Nor simple affection. His mother hadn't even been Al Bhed, after all. It had been Rin who had finally taken pity on him. Seeing how well he got along with his daughter Nhadala, he had offered a home to the orphaned boy. Gippal sometimes thought that the merchant had wanted someone to take over his business. But his parents' love for machina and engineering had already been too big a part of him. And his ambitions had never been met with anything but acceptance and encouragement.

Which led him to another day fear had resonated deep within his being. The day he raised his gun against one friend to save another, and found himself unable to lower it again. He had been afraid, then.

But nothing, nothing that ever happened to him, not even his nightmares, could have prepared him for the feeling of helpless terror he experienced as he stood in front of Vegnagun, _alone_, and felt the machina stare down at him. Measuring. Calculating.

He might have been afraid before, but he had never felt so lonely.

Gippal raised his weapon, knowing how foolish that was. It had taken all three of the Gullwings and their most powerful dress spheres to keep Vegnagun from destroying Spira the first time around. What could _he_ hope to achieve? Still, he had to try.

A voice rang inside his head, booming, hurting. A voice full of malicious glee.

_Lower your pathetic weapon, fool. I did not summon you to kill you._

He was so surprised he almost did what the machina demanded of him. Almost.

"You- you can talk?" he gasped.

_I have been aware of myself for thousands of years, human. It is no huge step from thought to speech. Now… drop… your… weapon._

And the world became pain, a white-hot flower blooming in his mind. Crying out, he dropped to his knees and clutched his head, dropping his gun in the process. The pain flared, then receded to a dull ache.

_Very well. Do as I tell you, and you might leave this place unharmed._

Gippal panted, trying to catch his breath, feeling light-headed, and absentmindedly wondering why there was no blood running out of his nose. Dark amusement flickered through his mind, cruelty accompanied by almost childish merriment. And he didn't understand it, didn't get how this could be possible at all. Vegnagun had been left on the Farplane, seemingly destroyed, or at least turned off again. How could it be here, in Bikanel of all places, and why? And why had it called for him, of all people, after all he had done to make sure it would never serve its purpose?

He tried to ask, tried to gather his strength, but failed, the dizziness making him feel sick. He got his answer anyway.

_I want you to bear witness to my final act, human. And when I left the place you call Farplane, how could I have come anywhere but here, where so many lost there lives in a symphony of pain and annihilation? The walls between the planes are thin in this abyss of your own making. It has called for me as I have called for you. _

"Why me?" he gasped, shakily rising to stand, "What do you want me to witness?"

_Revenge. _The voice boomed through his head, dripping with hatred. _From here, I will destroy him, and in doing so, I will destroy you. Too cocky you were, too stubborn to be taken in as my tool. It would have been beautiful to use you, but this will be just as satisfying._

"What? I don't… I don't understand…"

And then it was there, just as clear as he had lived it in his nightmares, only this time he could _see_ the single beam of energy leave the symbol on Vegnagun's face, passing through earth and water alike before rising above the ground, felling the man the machina had come to hate more than anything else. Baralai, who had been too weak to fully contain Shuyin's essence, who had failed to finish Vegnagun's sonata of death, who was the reason that instead of wiping out the whole of Spira, there was barely enough energy left for one last act of destruction.

_I am dying, too much has it cost me to leave my resting place, the Farplane. But I will not leave alone. I will tear through his chest as though it were mere air. I will slice him open so all the world may see what fate awaits those who fail Vegnagun._

"No, you… you can't!"

_I can, and I will. And there is nothing you can do to prevent it, pathetic child you are, and so we too will get even._

Even as the machina spoke, Gippal could feel it summoning its last reserves of energy, could see the symbol start to glow in a filthy red. Wicked satisfaction filled his mind, drowning his terror, and he wanted to cry in helpless anguish. This wasn't happening, this _couldn't_ happen, there was just no way, and Baralai wouldn't die because some ancient piece of junk nurtured its wounded ego.

He wouldn't.

Gippal straightened, summoning the shreds of his will through the machina's echoing laughter. Stubborn he had been called, and stubborn he was, straightening to stand upright even as the sign on Vegnagun's forehead began to pulse, began to flare. The Al Bhed had never been known to surrender themselves, and he wouldn't start now. In a desperate act of defiance, he gathered his remaining strength and ran, jumping on stone and pieces of Vegnagun itself to propel himself upwards. Praying to every Fayth that might be inclined to listen, he leapt.

Right into the path of that single beam of energy, which, just that very second and like he had seen in his vision, left the strange symbol on the machina's face along with the rest of its life force in a furious scream.

There wasn't even time to feel the pain.

He was dead before his body hit the ground.


	5. What Death Looks Like

AN: So, changing POV from Gippal to Baralai now. If by any chance you like this fic, it would be very nice to leave a review. Just so I know I'm not completely wasting my time. ;)

**5.** **What Death Looks Like**

_My love was supposed to protect. It didn't._

_My love was supposed to heal. It didn't._

_- I Hold My Breath, by Johnny Klimek & Reinhold Heil, feat. William Shatner -_

The day he had told them he would join the Crimson Squad was the last time he had ever seen his family. His father had been the one who had told him to choose between his foolish pursuit of fame, as he had seen it, and the love of his people. But how could he have stayed in the relative safety of his home, when all around them, people were dying, killed by Sin and its offspring? So he had left, without so much as a backward glance, and it had been the hardest thing he had ever done.

They hadn't understood. They thought he had rejected them, not comprehending that what he did was for them, to preserve their happiness. Never for fame, but to protect. Disappointment didn't even begin to describe what he had been feeling then, and when the Meister had assigned him to his little group of fellow Crimson Squad candidates, he had been almost choking on his loneliness.

Until a blond whirlwind of an Al Bhed had exploded into his life. Gippal hadn't taken 'no' for an answer, drawing him out of his shell with a stubborn cheerfulness that was impossible to ignore, tearing down his walls one by one. And he had clung to that easy friendship, never questioning it in his gratitude for the other's presence. It wasn't until they had gotten to meet Nooj when he realized that Gippal might need him just as much, that it might not just be a one-way thing. He had tried a little harder, from then on, to be there. To be a friend.

_And whatever happened to change that?_

He stared out of his window over the city of Luca, wondering. He would give almost anything to answer that question. The connection had still been there when Shuyin had taken control of him, he was sure of that. Gippal had risked his life, not only for Spira, but for him, Baralai. And in the first days of the Spira Union, he had been happy, enjoying the time he could spend with his best friend. Then Paine had arrived, and he had tried to make her feel welcome, to catch up with her. After all, he hadn't seen her once since they had parted years ago. He hadn't thought that, by choosing her, he might cause hurt for the one person he had never wanted to feel that way.

And Gippal had withdrawn.

It had cut deeply, not only that his friend would just leave like that, but that he had told Nooj, not him. Sure, he had noticed that the Al Bhed had felt more uncomfortable in Bevelle with each passing day, but he had put that down to exhaustion after their most recent adventure, or maybe homesickness for Djose. In hindsight, he berated himself for having been so stupid, but he'd never have thought that the other man might have felt left out, and really, couldn't they just have talked about it? Had their friendship weakened so much that the foundation, the trust, was gone just like that, and he hadn't even seen it happen?

His heart had dropped when he had gone to seek out his friend to tell him about Luca and found his quarters empty. Shock had turned to hurt when Nooj had informed him that Gippal had left days ago. _Days_. And when he had tried to talk to him, their encounter hadn't exactly gone as planned. That crazy story about dreams and things trying to kill him had really set him off, although now he had to admit it was probably the fact of Nhadala spending the night with his friend which had turned irritation into annoyance. And he _was_ worried, because Gippal's face had been nothing if not serious. Not worried for himself, though. But maybe the stress had been too much, and the young Al Bhed was headed towards a full-blown breakdown.

"Hey," a voice from the door interrupted his thoughts. He turned.

"Hey." He got a good look at Paine's face, and frowned. "Something happen?"

"You could say that."

He raised his eyebrows when she wasn't more forthcoming. As much as he liked their former recorder, having a conversation with her could be very trying.

"So?"

"So. They want you in Bikanel."

"Do they now?" And who was 'they'?

"Yes."

"May I ask why?"

"Sure."

Baralai sighed. "Paine."

A smile flickered over her face, but it was gone almost as soon as it had appeared.

"There have been sightings of pyreflies," she finally offered, leaning against the doorway. "Seems they're just dancing over the desert, stopping everyone who tries to get near the place where the Al Bhed used to live."

Alarm bells started ringing in the back of his head.

_I think something's in Bikanel, with Home._

It had to be a coincidence, he told himself. Nothing at all to do with Gippal.

"So what do they want me for?" he asked, pushing his nervousness aside.

"Yuna tried to get in. The pyreflies wouldn't let her. You were the praetor of New Yevon. You're something of a spiritual leader. People are getting worried, upset, so they want you to try and stop the glow-worms from flying." Paine shrugged. "Guess it can't hurt to give it a shot."

Well, yes, and if he left Luca and went to Bikanel, he would have a reason to stop at Djose on his way back. To calm Gippal down, assure him that nothing was there. Him, and himself.

"Alright," he said, "let's go."

Of course Gippal had come down here. Baralai's uneasiness had returned at the sight of the Al Bhed assembled around the hole, and evolved into a full-blown panic when he had heard that his friend had disappeared hours ago. He had managed to keep a calm façade, if only so they wouldn't stop him from trying to follow.

The pyreflies had let him pass, much to his surprise. So now he stood at the bottom of the hole that had once held the Al Bhed's Home, not really sure what to do. Gippal had sometimes told him of his childhood, his eye filled with longing as he painted with his words a picture of safety, of corridors vibrating with the low hum of machina, of Al Bhed coming and going, explorers, engineers, merchants, or simple travellers. He had always thought how he would have liked to visit his friend's home, to see the wonders his people had found buried under dust, rock and water to bring them to their artificial life again. To see the destruction that had befallen this place was enough to make him swallow the bile that was rising in his throat. It smelled of rust and damp sand, and a dusty rotten scent that might stem from the moss growing on the rocks and debris around him. Water dribbled down some of those rocks, glittering in the gentle glow of the orb he had brought down with him to use its light, courtesy of the Gullwings. The three women had been up there, along with Yuna's Tidus. They had wished him luck.

He felt more and more as though he might need it.

Baralai followed the only path he could make out between the silent witnesses of pointless destruction. His footsteps were the only sound that pierced the deathly stillness. His footsteps, and the rising jingle everyone on Spira had learned to associate with the carriers of souls, the pyreflies. Their multicoloured light was flickering before him, partly hidden by large slabs of half-molten metal, bent and twisted out of shape. Whatever it was they were protecting, he was close.

He made his way around the last obstacles. And stopped short. Eyes widening, desperately trying to beat down the cold fear that gripped his heart and squeezed with the force of naked terror, he drew in a short, shaky breath as he took in the far too familiar face of his nightmares, skull eyes empty and lifeless, mouth turned up in an eternal skeleton grin. Vegnagun.

And to its feet lay the body of the one he had come to love more than life itself, so still that Baralai didn't even need to see the hole in his friend's chest, illuminated by a bluish glow and the sparkle of the pyreflies dancing around him, to know whatever had happened, he was far too late.

"Gippal," he moaned.

And the hope he had held that maybe, some day, he would find the courage to take his leap of faith and just _tell him_, plunged into oblivion. Killed as surely as if it had been here with the Al Bhed during his last moments, standing at his side, where Baralai's place should have been.

_I think something's in Bikanel, with Home._

"I thought you were making it up, I thought you were crazy." A broken, hoarse confession that didn't change a thing. Far too little, much too late.

_Something's there, something that will kill you._

But it hadn't, had it? Gippal had been the one to die, giving his own life to save someone who didn't deserve such a sacrifice.

"I'm sorry, I should have believed you," he whispered, dropping to his knees. The pain constricted around his chest, making every breath a painful task, but he could barely feel it as he reached out for the one who's soul had burned so brightly, thrumming with life, just to be lost in the dark, alone. Abandoned.

_Gippal._


	6. Everything I Am

**6.** **Everything I Am**

_Somewhere in this darkness there's a light that I can't find._

_Well, maybe it's too far away, or maybe I'm just blind._

_- Love Me When I'm Gone, by Three Doors Down -_

Blood was slowly penetrating the cloth around his knees and soaking his trousers, but Baralai didn't care. He was trying to comprehend how this could have happened, how a life so precious could just be gone like that. His vision was blurred, hands shaking as he reached out to touch what he had lost before really having it.

"Gippal," he cried.

And the pyreflies moved. Before he could react, the had stopped their lazy dance around the Al Bhed's body to rise in a fluid wave of movement, before closing in to swirl around him. Too startled to stop his own motion, Baralai just stared at his hand as it connected with the cold flesh of Gippal's cheek, and one of the pyreflies shot towards him. He flinched back, but then it didn't matter anymore, because the moment they met, the world faded…

The thunder of waterfalls was the first thing he registered when his senses returned. That, and the manic jingle and clinking around him. Slowly, Baralai opened his eyes.

_What the…_

He was lying on his back in a field of flowers, pyreflies dancing above the meadow in wild abandon. A fine mist hung in the air, disturbed by the frantic movements of the small multicoloured beings. Something was wrong with the light, and instead of peaceful like he remembered, the Farplane just looked eerie. Whispers crawled at the edge of his mind, eluding his grasp, making him shake his head in irritation.

What on Spira was he doing here? Why would the Fayth have a human brought here, and him of all people? He wasn't even a summoner.

"Of all to come, it had to be you."

The voice startled him, and he spun around, combat ready without conscious thought. When he saw the boy in front of him, clad in violet with a hood hiding his face, his let his hands sink to his sides. A Fayth.

"Why?"

"Because you do not belong. As does he. You have to go."

"I don't…"

"This death was not meant to be," the Fayth interrupted. "This soul cannot rest here."

"Gippal? Are you talking about Gippal?"

"Find your friend, and take him back. He does not belong."

Baralai opened his mouth to ask another question, but the pyreflies swirled again, and the Fayth was gone. Startled, he just stood, blinking, surrounded by flowers and lights and rocks and waterfalls and without the slightest idea of what he should do now. Mentally kicking himself, he started into the next best direction. If the Fayth wanted him to find Gippal and bring him home, who was he to argue? He could hardly believe his luck in the first place. But without knowing where to look, he might well stumble across the place forever, so he needed at least a hint. Heart pounding, he stopped, and looked around.

The Farplane looked the same wherever he let his searching gaze wander. A peaceful meadow hanging over a bottomless abyss, except that now he noticed shadows where before there had been none. He frowned. The light was still not right, and when he concentrated, he could see movement within the faint dark outlines that didn't stem from pyreflies.

Somehow, he got the feeling that the Fayth hadn't exactly offered to send Gippal back out of the goodness of their hearts. And speaking of his friend, maybe he should try a different approach instead of walking around without a clue. But would the Al Bhed even talk to him after he had let him down so badly? He guessed he just had to try, it wasn't as if he had much left to lose. Mentally shrugging, he decided to give it a shot.

"Gippal?" he called out. The shadows swirled, grew thicker. He swallowed. "Gippal!"

A soft shuffling sound made him peer into the growing darkness. There was an assembly of rocks not too far away, and he walked towards them. Rounding the largest of them, Baralai's heart fluttered when he noticed the man sitting at its foot.

"Gippal?" he asked cautiously.

The young Al Bhed was leaning his back against the cold stone, his eye closed. Although his face showed no emotion, it wasn't hard to notice the air of defeat surrounding him.

"What do you want?" he asked in a tired voice.

"I want you to come back with me," Baralai said softly.

Gippal snorted.

"Yeah, right."

And this wasn't how it was supposed to go, not at all. They had been offered a chance, the chance to live, and only a madman would be stupid enough to decline, yet that was exactly what Gippal was doing. Baralai didn't get it.

"Gippal, I want to go home."

"I'm not stopping you," was the curt answer.

"Do you think I'd go alone?" the ex-praetor asked incredulously. His friend still didn't look at him.

"Well, you'd have to, since I'm not leaving."

"Damn it, Gippal, are you stupid or something? What is wrong with you?" Baralai exploded, feeling hurt.

And finally, finally, he got a reaction as Gippal opened his eye to stare at him with barely concealed fury.

"What's wrong with me? I'm _dead_, that's what's wrong! Do you get that, or do I have to draw you a picture?"

"I get it just fine! I found your body, you self-righteous asshole!"

"Then I don't see your problem!"

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Baralai shouted, blinking against the tears that burned in his eyes. "Because you're making even less sense than usual!"

"Dead, Baralai. Thus, Farplane. Which is where dead people belong, if you remember."

"But you don't! The Fayth said you could go back!"

"What for?"

"What- Well, to live, of course."

For some reason, the Al Bhed seemed to find that funny, but his amusement passed quickly.

"What are you even doing here, Baralai?"

"What am I doing here? You died for me!"

"Yeah, and look what good it did me," Gippal said tiredly and slumped back against his rock, eye closed again.

Baralai stared at his friend in helpless frustration.

"So you won't come back."

"I thought I made that clear."

"Fine."

Mouth set in a firm line, Baralai turned, and walked to the rock next to Gippal's, where he sat down. His friend looked at him sceptically.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" he snapped.

"You can't stay here," Gippal hissed, but Baralai just shrugged.

"Watch me."

"Baralai, you have to go back," his friend was pleading now.

"Why?"

"Because you're not dead, damn it!"

"And neither are you."

"What, are you blind or something? If it was anything like my dreams, there should be a hole in my chest at least a mile wide. I don't know about you, but I'd call that dead."

"But you weren't meant to be," Baralai tried again. His friend shook his head in anger.

"I don't _care_ if I was meant to be or not! I won't go back!"

"Well, if you're staying, so am I." And that was final.

"Baralai…"

"Both or none, Gippal," he interrupted. "Your call."

Gippal fell silent, his breathing erratic. Strange lights were dancing across his features as the pyreflies around them twirled once again, keeping the shadows at bay.

"Damn you," he finally whispered, and Baralai knew he had won.

"Yeah, I've heard that before," the young ex-praetor said quietly before rising to his feet. He held out his hand. "Let's go home."

Gippal eyed the offered hand resignedly, but took it after a moment of hesitation. And as the pyreflies rose, the world faded once again.


	7. Gradual Smile

**7. Gradual Smile**

_You might think it's foolish, what you put me through._

_You might think I'm crazy, but all I want is you._

_- You Might Think, by The Cars -_

"Do you think they're alright?" Tidus hovered next to Yuna, eyes fixed worriedly on the abyss and the pyreflies swarming above it.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, and took his hand. He pulled her close. "I hope so."

"Aw, c'mon, it's Gippal. Nothing could happen to that big meanie." The tone was right, but Rikku's cheerful words couldn't hide her anxiety as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and back again.

Paine rolled her eyes. "Stop that."

Around them, Al Bhed whispered quietly. None of them felt comfortable in a place that had become their symbol for pain and death, of yet none of them made a move to leave. Their leader was down there, as was his friend. They might not be able to help, but they would stay until this was over, one way or another.

Oblivious to their presence, pyreflies danced

As Baralai woke up, he was sprawled across Gippal's familiar body, pyreflies zig-zagging around them. The Al Bhed's eye was closed, and for one endless terrifying moment, Baralai thought he had just imagined their argument, that he had collapsed from pain and his friend was still gone, still dead. He kneeled with the grace of panic, running his hand over the blood-soaked fabric of Gippal's shirt. It had started to dry and felt stiff under his touch, but the flesh underneath was smooth and whole and warm.

Baralai sighed in relief, before he noticed the tension that had taken residence in his friend's body. He remembered Gippal's reluctance to return, and it had him worried, because he was missing something and didn't understand what it was. Searchingly, he looked up, trying to find the answer in that familiar face. It had never been quite clear to him just what was going on in the other man's mind, but as his questioning gaze was met with one of quiet desperation, it hit him. Hard.

He gasped, twisting Gippal's shirt in a white-knuckled grip until the Al Bhed winced in pain, but he didn't care, staring in open-mouthed wonder at the man he had thought he knew.

"Gippal…" he tried to say more, if only his brain would work.

"What?"

"Gippal, you…" but the words still wouldn't come.

_"What?"_

He couldn't answer, so he did the only thing he could to share his revelation, to comfort, to welcome back, to reassure. Ignoring Gippal's startled "Hmphfff", he pressed his lips to the other man's, trying to convey through touch what he couldn't put into words.

His kiss was hard, desperate, without finesse. Gippal lay tense under him, unmoving, and he was just about to draw back and apologize when suddenly, there were arms embracing him, one around his waist, the other cradling his head. With a choked off moan, Gippal pulled him close, and opened his mouth.

It felt like he was trying to crawl into his friend's skin, pressing into his body and sinking into the wet heat of his mouth as their tongues clashed and danced in frantic need. Teeth, lips, damn, tonsils, he wanted it all, and he needed it now, revelling in the tiny noises coming from the Al Bhed as he tried to get even closer, bucking against him. He was drowning, flying, soaring through the skies and diving into the depths of the ocean. This was what he had wanted all along, and now that he had it, he would never let it go.

Nibbling his way across his friend's lower lip in one last caress, he pulled back, smiling into Gippal's dazed face before affectionately smacking him on the head.

"Ow! Hey!" the Al Bhed protested, but Baralai would have none of it.

"Why didn't you ever _say_ anything?" he demanded.

"And how was I supposed to know that _this_ would happen?" his friend snapped back, sitting up and rubbing his head. "I thought you had the hots for Dr. P!"

"_Paine?_ Are you nuts?" Baralai asked in disbelief.

"Oh, come on, you _did_ spend an awful lot of time together!"

"Well, yes, we're _friends!_ What do you expect?"

"It sure didn't look like that to me!"

"Oh, right, and you're one to talk!"

"Now what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you and Nhadala seemed to get along just fine when I came by!" the ex-praetor accused.

"Nhadala? Now why on Spira would you think _that_?" Gippal asked disbelievingly.

"She knew about your nightmares!"

"Baralai, the whole temple of Djose knows about my nightmares. I was screaming loud enough for anyone to hear. Sleeping with Nhadala would be like incest, for fuck's sake! She's like a sister."

They stared at each other, grinning sheepishly. Gippal scratched his head.

"I guess we're both kinda stupid, huh?"

"Seems so," Baralai answered, and shrugged.

The Al Bhed rose to stand, wincing as he looked at the blood-soaked sand before him. He reached a hand out to his friend, who took it and let himself be pulled to his feet.

"You do know I love you, right?" Gippal asked, a hopeful expression on his face.

"Sure," Baralai offered nonchalantly, which earned him a punch to his shoulder. And he laughed, feeling more carefree than he could ever remember. He put his arms around his friend, and drew him in.

"I love you," he whispered, before their mouths met again, melting against each other as they allowed their emotions to run freely.

And around them, the pyreflies rose, swirling upwards in their eternal dance to hover over the Bikanel desert, sharing the love and joy of two men with those who had been waiting for them to return, before, one by one, they blinked, and faded.

End.


End file.
